


Not Just a Pretty Face

by Dizzojay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12630930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzojay/pseuds/Dizzojay
Summary: Even in Purgatory Dean has certain standards - he doesn't get any appreciation for it though!





	Not Just a Pretty Face

Kneeling over the inky depths of one of Purgatory's most desolate lakes, bowie knife in hand, Dean worked tentatively, scraping his face clear of a week's stubble. As he guided the massive blade cautiously over the contours of his face, he glanced into the murky water to see the reflection of a figure standing behind him. But this gave him no reason to flinch.

Benny was happy to stand guard over his friend as he attended to his grooming. This didn't stop the vampire from glancing around nervously, however.

"Hey, brother," he hissed; "You don't have to be Purgatory's next top model, you know. There's no-one here that would appreciate that prettty face of yours, except maybe to eat it."

When no response was forthcoming, he continued; "so, how about you quit your primping and posing down there by the lake and speed things up a bit? There's something moving in the underbrush over there, an' I don't think it's no fashion photographer."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Listen man," he grunted, as he carefully manouevred the blade across the cleft of his chin; "it's okay for you dead, undead – whatever – dudes. You don't need any maintenance, but my hair grows; and the last thing I need with all the other shit going on in this place is some disgusting itchy beard, all flea-bitten and matted, flapping around my goddamn face."

Benny grinned. "Sorry I ain't got any shampoo or conditioner for you, gorgeous; you could give your hair a trim too, an' I reckon a nice exfoliating facial while you're at it would go down a treat …"

His gently mocking tones were suddenly cut off as Dean's bowie flew past his face with a whistle and found its mark unerringly, embedding itself with a sickening 'thunk' into the skull of a rugaru looming behind Benny.

The creature gave a choking, bitten-off shriek and fell bonelessly to the ground behind the shocked vampire who stood staring at it in silent astonishment.

Dean turned his half-shaven face to Benny, and nodded in approval at his own work.

"See, the good thing about 'primping and posing' by the lake," he began, "is that it's the nearest thing I have to a mirror in this place, which is kinda useful because it means I get to see my AWESOME face, which is always a good thing, and it also stops me from accidentally sticking the bowie up my freakin' nose when I'm trying to shave."

Benny nodded slowly, his pebble-eyed face registering gratitude, admiration and no small amount of confusion as he continued to stare down at the rugaru's crumpled carcass. Dean sauntered toward it and bracing his boot on its neck, casually yanked his blade free of its wrecked head. "Of course, it also means I can see things behind me as well – you know, like your ugly mug, and then everything behind that too."

Benny nodded again, this time in understanding. "Not just a pretty face then," he grinned.

"You better believe it," Dean grunted, turning and kneeling down at the lakes edge again.

"Hey brother," Benny called after him, pointing toward the blade in Dean's hand, and the stinking black ichor dripping from it. "I hope you're gonna wash that before you carry on with your makeover …"

xxxxx

end


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